By ALAN FEUER

Published: May 20, 2003

The honorary mayor of Harlem is a youthful, energetic former Roman Catholic nun from southern Florida with a pair of Ivy League degrees, a habit of walking the length of 125th Street at least once a day and 500 pages of an unfinished autobiography lying on her floor. Her full name, including honorifics, is the Queen Mother Dr. Delois N. Blakely, and she has served as Harlem's unofficial mayor for the last eight years.

A formal accounting of her duties does not exist, but it is safe to say that she considers her mandate to be no less than the spiritual health of her community. On any given day, she can be found exhorting the impoverished residents of Harlem to hold their heads up, or helping desperate tenants fight their landlords. She might spend her mornings welcoming a new bank to the neighborhood. A typical evening might be passed at an exclusive Harlem social event.

Ms. Blakely, who is 61 and dresses in a colorful African style, has headquarters in an ordinary-looking apartment house on West 142nd Street, although her true office is Harlem itself, which she traverses each day on foot from 6 a.m. until after dark at a pace that is faster and perhaps more reckless than most of the city's yellow cabs'.

''I have what you might call a traveling office,'' she said the other day as she burst from her door with a tote bag slung across her shoulder, trailing another bag on rollers in her wake. ''I am a 24-7 operation. There's no such thing as 9 to 5 when you're servicing the community.''

In that service, Ms. Blakely might do anything from approaching a state senator, petitioning City Hall or speaking with police officers at the local station house. For this she receives no payment other than the gratitude of her constituents.

She is the 11th person to hold the title of Harlem's honorary mayor, a position established in 1947 by a Harlem publicist, Reuben Patton, who decided after the racial turmoil loosed by World War II that the neighborhood deserved some local representation, even if it was self-proclaimed and vaguely defined.

Ms. Blakely, however, is quick to say that the honorary mayor of Harlem should not be confused with the community mayor of Harlem. That is a different title altogether, occasionally conferred upon some worthy soul by a 100-year-old organization called the Community Mayors of New York State Inc. Of course, there is reason for confusion, seeing as Ms. Blakely, a go-getter of the highest order, holds that position, too.

The honorary mayoralty is an elected office, and according to Mr. Patton's original guidelines, which can be found in old copies of Harlem's hometown newspaper, The Amsterdam News, any person 18 or older who lives between 110th and 165th Streets and the Harlem and Hudson Rivers can vote.

The elections used to be both fiercely contested and cause for great excitement -- at least according to the newspaper, which ran an article on one vote on Sept. 12, 1959, that included a breathless statement by Mr. Patton: ''I have never seen anything like it. It now seems certain that 100,000 Harlemites will participate in the Mayor of Harlem election.''

The article also said that a ''professional party consultant from Hollywood'' would be on hand to arrange a Champagne gathering at the Rockland Palace on Eighth Avenue and 155th Street for the inaugural ball, which, of course, was to be broadcast live -- and in its entirety -- by WNEW radio.

No such festivity accompanied Ms. Blakely's inauguration, which took place outdoors in Marcus Garvey Park. In fact, she ascended to the job by winning exactly zero votes, having catapulted herself from the position of junior deputy honorary mayor to presumptive acting honorary mayor after the death of her predecessor, Dr. Benjamin Watkins, a Harlem chiropodist and the last elected honorary mayor, in 1995.

Although Ms. Blakely is fully aware she claimed the job in what amounted to a neighborhood coup, it should not be assumed she lacks the spirit for a fight.

''Anyone wants to challenge me,'' she said, ''I'm ready.''

Indeed, there is little doubt that Ms. Blakely would make for a difficult opponent, given that she is the incumbent honorary mayor, the first woman to hold the job, and apparently knows everyone. It seems that her best political asset is the dark beige rubber-soled pair of walking shoes she wears on her daily rounds, which might include a visit to the Hamilton Grange Senior Citizens Center on West 145th Street, an appearance at a fund-raiser for troubled youth at the Apollo Theater and a brief pause at the Uptown Juice Bar on West 125th Street for her drink of choice -- a blend of fresh pineapples, papayas, beets and greens.

She is highly conscious of what she eats and considers her diet to be far more than a physical concern. She is wont to say things like, ''I only eat lamb spiritually,'' or ''My spirit is telling me I need to get to the juice bar.''

Her deep-seated spiritual life was, in fact, first developed at the Convent of the Franciscan Handmaids of Mary on West 124th Street, where she arrived at age 16 from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., and where she spent 10 years as a nun before leaving to pursue a worldlier vision of things. She moved into a friend's apartment, found work in a watch factory and then at J. C. Penney's, experimented with nail polish and permanents, and eventually discovered what it was like to have strange men whistle at the sight of her legs. She said she went on to get a master's degree from Harvard and a doctorate in education from Columbia.

In 1969, she scribbled down a few thoughts outlining an organization for needy children, and within a few years, the New Future Foundation, which serves women and children in the United States and Africa, was born. Ms. Blakely's work with the group attracted the attention of Queen Mother Audley E. Moore, a Harlem fixture with a long history of working for African nationalism and civil rights. Ms. Blakely became Ms. Moore's caretaker until her death in 1997, and claims to continue her legacy as the neighborhood's queen mother today.

Part of that legacy includes the stroll Ms. Blakely takes each morning at 6 o'clock sharp -- a soulful constitutional that carries her past a list of Harlem landmarks.

Inevitably, Ms. Blakely will bump into a fellow Harlemite in need, although given her busy schedule, she can usually spare only a few minutes. A few days ago, for instance, she encountered Joyce Stewart, 67, who complained that a drug addict was living in her building.

After dragging Ms. Stewart along for a half-hour's worth of her daily rounds, Ms. Blakely counseled her to call the police and to make sure the door to her building was locked at night. Ms. Stewart said she had already called the local station house and that the addict had a key.

''O.K., O.K., write down your number for me,'' Ms. Blakely said. ''You know I don't have time to write no numbers down.''

Ms. Stewart obeyed, writing down her number on a scrap of paper.

''All right then,'' the honorary mayor said, sighing, turning and heading down the street. ''I'm gone.''